Proud to be Scottish
by Green Angel Girl
Summary: "He was proud to be Scottish, and not only that, he was proud to be Scotland." Scotland One-shot. No romance. Written for my love of Allistor Kirkland. Rated T just to be safe.


**This totally came out of nowhere, and so...yeah. Crack is crack. :3 This is just for enjoyment, and I don't think there are enough Scotland fanfictions. I love Scotland... I love Scotland in Hetalia, as a real existing country, and I love bagpipes. My dad insists I am Scottish somewhere in my ancestry, and apparently my last name (not putting here) is Scottish...or British...or something... :/ But anyway, even though I have never been to Scotland, and even though I have no idea how Scottish people today are like...I would like to go there someday. And I apologize if I completely describe Scotland incorrectly in any way, I really have no idea what Scotland is like. I mean, I know it's green...but I don't know how anyone lives. So if you are Scottish, I hope you do not find anything insulting...instead you may make fun of me for my inability to figure out what the heck Wikipedia is talking about when I ask it what Scotland is like. ^_^ Anyway...but this is fanfiction, so I guess it can be incorrect...xD**

**Oh, and I was listening to this as inspiration, and I imagines this is most likely what Allistor would be playing. :) /watch?v=vBKBI7DOLHA **

**~Cheerio!**

* * *

Through the silence in the vastly green area, a soft sigh was heard. It broke the silence like a hammer to glass, but was soon followed by even more silence. The only sound that could be heard was the rustling of the long, green grass, as a result of the calmly blowing breeze throughout the area. There were a few purple thistles scattered around the large green area, and there were various groups of trees in the valleys of the hills. The whole landscape was hilly and not a single bit of it was not green, save for the few flowers and the small lakes scattered around.

The area was peaceful to say the least, and beautiful. Quite in contrast to the man who represented the country of Scotland, or in other words, this large, green, hilly chunk of land.

Allistor Kirkland, or better known as 'Scotland' himself, stood on the top of a particularly large hill. He sighed once more at the sight of the area around him, and though he did not smile, he felt a rather familiar warmth blooming in the pit of stomach. Only the sight of his very own land was enough to tame the fire within the red-haired man's eyes. Perhaps it was because not many countries had the same privilege of seeing nature at its best those days, seeing as the humans took it upon themselves to crush the beauty that used to be the earth with those large buildings and paved roads. As much as Allistor appreciated indoor plumbing, and various electrical appliances, he still wished he could simply bat an eyelash and have the entire earth be restored to what it once was.

Scotland was one of the few places people could go anymore to see green grass, _natural green grass,_ not the stuff humans planted in the ground to make up for the grass that refused to grow in certain areas. Scotland was one of the few places that did not drastically change in certain aspects the same way other countries did, and he was proud of that. Allistor did not want to change his country to fit in, he liked being original.

He was proud to be Scottish, and not only that, he was proud to be Scotland.

Allistor stared down at the scenery before him with a look of pride in his eyes. Slowly, he brought a wooden pipe, rather old and worn in appearance, to his lips as he drew in a breath. Tucked under his left arm, he had what would appear to be a sack, and he held it close to his body as he began to blow into it through the pipe. His hands held yet another pipe, and his fingers began to press down onto the holes in it. Sound began to emerge through a few other pipes that were each attached to the sack Allistor held, creating strange, yet beautiful music.

Allistor played his old, worn out bagpipe with great ease, his eyes shining as he continued to stare down at his country. The song he played was not one of sorrow, but one of utter pride. He and his people had heard this song so many times before, but he could not help but play it. The song itself resembled the bravery his country held, the bravery _he _held, and that alone made him proud. Sure, he may grow a little too big-headed for his own good, and he had moments were he was most certainly _not _humble, but he could not help it. Besides, he was one of the oldest countries still around, so he had to have done something right. Why not tell everyone else that?

As he drew out the last note, his mouth freed itself from the pipe. He sighed once more in happiness, gave one last look to the scenery before him, then turned around and began to walk home. However, as he drew closer to his home, a rather pleasant idea formed into his head.

"I know..." Allistor said, an evil grin forming on his face. "I thenk I'll just go'n pay my lettle brother a wee visit..."

With that, Allistor spun around on his heel, and began to walk over to London. It was not too far away, especially if he decided to drive his car. He did not, however, drop off his bagpipe at his house. Arthur Kirkland, his brother, absolutely detested bagpipes. Well, not quite as much as he detested McDonald's, or anything made or said by Francis Bonnefoy, but he did not particularly enjoy them. Allistor, of course, knew this, and decided that he would spend the rest of his afternoon annoying the crumpets out of his little brother.

Perhaps, if he annoyed his brother enough, he would finally be able to rid himself of the Brit. He might finally become independent, and never have to look at his brother's face again. With the exception of the World Meetings of course, and if Arthur ever needed a helping hand with something. He did not hate his brother, he merely found him extremely annoying. One second the Brit was yelling at him for making fun of his embroidery, and then the next second he was clinging onto him for dear life, crying for him not to go. He loved his brother, somewhere deep down in his heart, he really did. However, Arthur was nearly as old as he was, and it was about time the Brit manned up and did things for himself. Allistor was merely looking out for his brother's well-being.

That, and he REALLY wanted to be his own country again...

He hated having his younger brother telling him what to do all the time, it drove him absolutely and utterly mad.

Oh yes, he was most definitely annoying the heck out of his younger brother with his amazing bagpipes. Of course, why wouldn't they be amazing? He was frickin' Scotland, and so help him everything about him and his country was amazing. And Im Yong Soo could say what he wanted, but Allistor was the one who invented bagpipes, and he was proud of it.

Oh yes, he was proud to be Scotland...and one day he would be proud that he was his own country.


End file.
